In 2009, I learned that there was no realistic way my best friend would ever be able to become a father -- his greatest desire in life. I decided then that I would offer to be a surrogate for him (which didn’t sound realistic at the time). A year later, I made that offer. He accepted, and in Nov. 2011 I got pregnant.

I’m writing this blog because I’m not the typical surrogate. For one, in the terms of the trade, I’m an altruistic traditional surrogate (I’m unpaid and the egg is mine) with a totally open arrangement with the dads. Most importantly, though, this is my first pregnancy (NO ONE thinks this is a good idea; most surrogates already have their own kids).

Also, we’re all gay, so this is going to be the gayest baby ever.*

- The Deputy

*Except for the children of those many, many other sets of three or more gays who decided to combine their powers to procreate...

May 20, 2012

I feel like a spoiled, bratty, 3-year-old who knocks over large canned bean displays at the super market when he doesn't get what he wants (my id is a boy, btw). He's always there, but he's been making his presence known more lately. The worst part is the horror felt by his mom (my superego) upon seeing the carnage in the bean-aisle and then the pointless arguments that ensue.

May 17, 2012

When we left off, Hotshot Johnson and I had broken things off because of my impending surrogacy. My conviction that dating and surrogacy didn’t mix lasted a couple of weeks -- I didn’t even make an attempt to stop myself from pursuing Toasts. I still had a little time before the first insemination, after all, and who knew how many tries it would take? This was part of my justification, but moreover I had a feeling that my pregnancy wouldn’t be the issue for me and Toasts that it was for me and Hotshot. I was right, and the rest of this entry will be devoted to my musings on why that might be, though I admit it’s still a mystery to me.

May 2, 2012

Though I've gained around 15lbs now, the fetus composes only about 1.5 of those at this point, according to babycenter.com (the rest is fluid... the rest is fluid...). At about 13 inches, this brings it up, apparently, to the size of a rutabaga. Growing up, rutabagas were a thanksgiving tradition in my family, though for years my mother was the only one who ate them. Though I swore it would never happen, I've grown very fond of them, too -- but let me tell you: the secret to good rutabagas is buying the SMALLEST ones possible, often no more than 3 inches in diameter. So once again, screw babycenter!! The fetus is about the size and weight of a loaf of banana bread (how is that fitting inside me????)

Many surrogates, when asked about their motivation, list how much they love being pregnant or how easy their pregnancies are. For first pregnancy surrogates, this is obviously not the case. I had no expectation that I would love pregnancy (though I was interested in experiencing it) and I was prepared for it to be a major annoyance. To my delight, it’s only been the most minor of annoyances. And really, that best sums up my feelings about being pregnant: it’s a lot like not being pregnant, plus a few minor bummers (not drinking is the main one at this point).